


Feysand's son's first word

by sarah_bae_maas



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: feysand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 23:22:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16963431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_bae_maas/pseuds/sarah_bae_maas
Summary: Originally posted November 5th, 2016.





	Feysand's son's first word

Feyre watched as Rhys poured water over their baby son’s head, clucking at the eleven month old.

Rhys and their son both sat in the bath – bubbles spattered around them – with the baby sitting on Rhys’s lap facing his father. Rhys had one arm securely around their baby while the other splashed water and played with the little toys they had to stop their son from making a fuss.

He used to hate bath time and would cry and scream when they tried to bathe him. Now it’s not so bad – they figured out that if there are enough bubbles and enough toys then it’s not really that bad of a time.

Right now they were playing with wooden ducks that Uncle Azriel had made especially for bath time, knowing that his nephew always kicked up a storm when it came to getting clean.

Their boy held a duck in each hand, alternating between splashing them in the water and biting their heads. Feyre – who was sitting on a stool next to the bath – pried it gently out of his mouth each time.

“Silly boy, those aren’t to eat. Oh no no no no,” Rhys cooed. Rhys leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the golden brown tufts of hair atop his head.

At the kiss their baby dropped one of his ducks to pull on his father’s hair.

“Can you say duck?” Rhys asked his little one.

Feyre and Rhys had been trying to get him to say a word for a while now. He was capable of making sounds – his random shrieks and cackles in the middle of the night were proof enough of that – but had yet to say an actual word.

Feyre turned while Rhys continued to try and get their boy to speak to get a wash cloth. When she turned back their baby had snuggled into his father’s chest, duck still firmly grasped in his hand.

“He must be tired,” Feyre murmured as she started gently to wash their baby with the cloth. She rubbed careful circles on his back and then up and down his arms.

He’d had an adventure with Uncle Lucien and Aunty Elain today that involved playing in a lot of fallen autumn leaves and dirt. He’d had a great time but was now lightly caked in mud.

“Hmm, maybe he’ll sleep through the night.” Rhys focused back on his son, “Can you say duck? I’ll be awfully happy if you do. What about bath?” Rhys said. “Maybe he’ll be asleep soon enough for us to play too, Feyre Darling.”

He smirked at her.

Feyre scoffed, “I plan to go to sleep as soon as I can, but feel free to play on your own.”

Their son sat up straight suddenly and continued playing in the bubbles and with his ducks. Rhys hands nearly slipped on his little body but grabbed him again just in time. Rhys should be accustomed to his son’s random flailing by now, but both parent’s doubt he ever will be.

“Uhhhhhhhh,” Their son looked at Rhys and said. He had one tiny had gesturing towards the wooden toy and the other waving around to get the attention of his father.

“That’s a duck, can you say duck? Duuuuuck,” Rhys elongated.

“Uhhhhhh,” The boy replied. At least he was trying.

“Duck. Duh – ck.” Rhys said again.

Feyre snorted at his antics. It was like this every time their son focused on something for longer than a minute. As soon as their son took a liking to something Rhys would try and get him to say the words. So far he had been unsuccessful, and it looked like it would continue to be that way.

She finished scrubbing the dirt off her baby and grabbed a towel so that she could wrap him up and get him ready for bed. She wasn’t kidding when she told Rhys she was going to go to sleep as soon as she could. She was exhausted from her long day of meetings and rotations. She had also missed her son dearly why he was with her sister and her sister’s mate. It was the first time he had been so far away from her and she couldn’t help but shed a tear when her husband winnowed away with him to another Court.

“Give him to me, Rhys.” She sighed. Her mate was still trying to get him to say a word but she’d had enough for today.

“Aren’t you going to scrub me down to? It’s only fair,” he didn’t even look at her as he said it - he was far too distracted by their baby blowing raspberries at him.

“Please, Rhys.” She whispered.

At her tone the High Lord looked at her in concern. He was too distracted to see it before but now that he was properly looking her fatigue was evident.

“I just want to read him a story and cuddle for a bit, and then I want to sleep.” She sighed.

Rhys nodded and kissed his son on the forehead one more time before handing him to Feyre who was holding out a towel.

She wrapped her son gently in it and took away the wooden duck he was still holding.

Her baby let out a cry at her taking it away and snatched his hand around as if he could get it to magically come back to him.

Feyre then left the bathroom, clutching him to her chest.

She heard Rhys get out of the bath and water sloshing as he emptied it.

The baby continued to squeal for this toy but Feyre ignored it. It was time for him to wind down and relax so that he would go to sleep. She placed him on the change table Rhys had made for the boy and made sure he was dry before dressing him in his pyjamas.

“Shhh, my baby. Please stop squealing, I know you’re just as tired as I am.” She whispered to him.

When he was all dressed and ready to go she pressed two sweet kisses to his rosy cheeks but still he wouldn’t settle. It only got worse when he saw Rhys leave the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

“Uhhhhhh,” He gurgled.

“I know, I know, you want the bloody duck.” Feyre was nearly to the point of tears. She was just so tired.

“Uhhh,”

“Honey, I know. Want to read a story with me instead? I’ll read you your favourite.” Feyre said hopefully as she grabbed his favourite book – one that she had illustrated herself – about little house elves that stole your socks.

“Uh,”

“I’ll tell you a secret - I missed you so much today. More than I’ve ever missed anyone, even your father.” She told him.

“ _Fuck_ ,”

Feyre gasped and Rhys came running to them. He was stumbling and frantic because his pants were only half on when their son said his very first word but no way was he going to miss this.

“What did you say?” Rhys asked him, as if he was an adult who could understand.

“ _Fuck_!” He squealed.

Feyre’s eyes went wide in horror but all Rhys could do was laugh.

“Where did he learn that?! We’re always trying not to curse around him!” Feyre cried.

Rhys was clutching his stomach, gasping from laughing so hard.

“This is – by the Cauldron this is the funniest thing,” He snickered.

“This isn’t funny, Rhysand! Do you think it was Lucien?! My baby’s so impressionable, how dare he!”

“No Feyre, it’s not like that.”

Rhys walked away, still uncontrollably laughing, and swiped one of the wooden ducks from the bathroom vanity where he had left them. He came back and stood in front of them.

“Duck? Do you want a duck?” He wiggled the wooden figurine in front of the boy’s face.

Their son lit up in delight and giggled.

“ _Fuck_!” He said again.

“Looks like I’m the one making a bad impression, Feyre darling.” He grinned at his wife.

At his words she just gripped harder onto her son.

“Oh Mother. What are we going to tell people? Cassian will never let it go,” She groaned.

“Are you kidding? I can’t wait to tell people. Just imagine their reactions! The Angel of the Night Court and his first word was fuck. I will admit this makes me wickedly delighted.” His eyes shone in pure pleasure at the situation.

Feyre rolled her eyes and handed their son over to Rhys.

“If you’re so delighted then you can try and get him to sleep while he’s so hyperactive.” She retorted.

“My pleasure,” He sang.

Feyre turned to go to her long-awaited rest but not before seeing her mate and baby giggling to each other. Rhys holding him and enthusiastically swaying back and forth while saying, “ _duck duck duck duck duck_ ,” just to see his son curse in return.

It worked, and they both madly giggled at each other.


End file.
